


Myriad Colors

by Artemis1000



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, Bodhi and Cassian are on separate missions. All Bodhi has are memories and faith that they'll both make it home alive.





	Myriad Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **Week 3 - New Year's** of **[Sniperpilot Winter](https://sniperpilotwinter.tumblr.com/)** to the prompt of _You can't make it back for New Year's. It's midnight and I'm alone._

“It’s almost New Year, Galactic Standard time,” Jyn said quietly.

Bodhi jolted, finally tearing his eyes away from the controls, swiveling the pilot’s chair around to face her. He hadn’t even heard her enter the cockpit.

Looking as grim as he felt, she didn’t seem to be in the mood for celebrations any more than Bodhi was.

He gulped hard and nodded. “I saw. There’s going to be fireworks on Coruscant. And a military parade tomorrow. And he’ll…” He cut himself off, took a deep breath. He brushed his fingers over his uniform – a Rebel Alliance uniform, these days he didn’t start anymore at seeing himself in the mirror. “And he’ll be fine,” he said, his speech deliberately calm and paced as if he stood any chance of fooling Jyn.

Bodhi turned back to the viewscreen, though there was little to see in hyperspace. He could hear the sounds of Jyn leaving again. She was good at respecting when he wanted to be alone. Maybe too good, for Bodhi knew that he wanted to be alone, yet at the same time he wasn’t certain if it was good for him to be left to his own thoughts.

These thoughts inevitably returned to Imperial Center – Coruscant, he corrected himself, the Rebels still called it Coruscant. That was hard to remember after years of schooling himself to call it only by its new name, for anything else would have gotten you Military Intelligence’s attention for being a Rebel sympathizer.

When he tried to make his peace with the Empire and his role in it, he had yearned to be on Coruscant for Fete Week, to spend these first five days of the new year celebrating and enjoying the festivities. He would never be able to enjoy military parades after growing up on Jedha, but the acrobatic flying of the TIE squadrons was said to be breathtaking.

Now…

He rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled slowly.

Two minutes left.

Bodhi squeezed his eyes shut. Now he just wished Cassian weren’t on Coruscant – he would always wish Cassian wasn’t on Coruscant, but especially in these days, with security at full alert for rebel activities. Only Empire Day had tighter security measures and yet Cassian was on Coruscant for some secret mission he hadn’t been allowed to talk about.

Bodhi’s fingers found the coin he carried on a string around his neck. It was an actual metal coin, a silly souvenir from a mission that had gone wrong in too many ridiculous ways to count, and yet it was right now the only connection he had to Cassian. There were many rules for dating spies, one of them being that you couldn’t carry anything on you which would connect you to them if you were captured.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to his sweaty fist, the coin still tightly clenched in it.

Selective memory wasn’t a requirement to be part of the Empire, but it was certainly helpful. Now Bodhi used these old skills to remember only Cassian telling him the same, and ignore that his _I’ll be fine_ had come out even tenser and curter than he normally was before difficult missions. Instead, he chose to recall that he had tenderly run his fingers through Bodhi’s hair, these last moments of gentleness Cassian had given them before the man was pushed aside and only the weapon remained.

Dark eyes found the clock.

Not even a minute left now.

He checked the controls, physically stopped himself before he could double-check their jump calculations just to keep his restless mind occupied.

K-2 was with him and he would be fine, he always was. They’d gotten off Scarif alive, if Cassian could survive the Death Star he could certainly survive New Year on Coruscant? Of course he could.

In his mind, Bodhi could almost hear the fireworks – they blended with the sounds of bombardment till he couldn’t tell the difference anymore, but before his inner eye he focused on blooming bright lights that brought only a myriad of colors, no death.

The electronic clock on the autopilot switched to 00:00.

Bodhi pressed his lips to the coin and whispered, “Happy New Year, Cassian” and he chose to believe that half a galaxy away, Cassian would feel his kiss.


End file.
